


Never Again

by SmartassUndertheMountain



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Drunk!Reader, F/M, One Shot, Poor Haldir, Thranduil made a bad judgement call, fluff??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-06 11:27:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3132743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmartassUndertheMountain/pseuds/SmartassUndertheMountain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You have to give a speech honouring Lord Elrond and you are nervous. Thranduil tells you a drink will calm you down. If one drinks helps, won't two help a lot?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kitanafury](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=kitanafury).



            Isildur had defeated Sauron, the war was over, the dead could be buried with dignity and the living could begin to heal. Many had died, and hearts would mourn them for a long time to come, but now was a time to celebrate their sacrifice, the victory they helped achieve, and the peaceful future that lay ahead.

            In Rivendell men and elves gathered, drinking, dancing, and singing. Tonight, you were to give a small speech honouring Lord Elrond for his bravery in battle. It was supposed to be a little funny and very sincere. The only problem was that you had never had to speak in front of so many before. You stood at the edge of the great balcony watching everyone. There were so many in attendance, many that you did not know. If they had all been friends it would have been doable, but to speak in front of so many strangers was asking too much of you.

            “You look like a deer staring down a hunter’s arrow,” a creamy voice whispered in your ear, causing you to jump.

            “My Lord Thranduil! You startled me!”

            “My apologies, Lady Y/N. I noticed that you looked … overwhelmed.”

            “I suppose I am a bit. How is one supposed to give a speech in front of so many people? What if I forget what I am supposed to say, or start babbling, or any of the other things that could go horribly awry?”

            “I suggest a little liquid courage. Here,” he handed you a flute of golden coloured liquid. 

            “What is this?”

            “Just try it.”

            “I do not drink often. I can’t handle the strong stuff.”

            “I promise, My Lady, one glass of this will do you no harm,” he smirked, “And if it does I shall finish it off on your behalf.”

            “Such a brave warrior, Thranduil,” you teased. “Perhaps I should be speaking about you instead.”

            “No, my battles with a goblet are nothing compared to Elrond’s.”

            “The ellon is talented with a goblet,” you giggled, feeling better as you sipped whatever it was in the flute.

            “Feeling better?” Thranduil tilted his head, a pleasant smile on his lips. His eyes searched you.

            “Much. Thank you. I wonder if -“

            “Lady Y/N, Lord Celeborn asked me to send for you. He wants to discuss what you are going to say later,” Lindir said hurriedly.

            “Of course. Until later, Lord Thranduil,” you nodded your head respectfully at him and followed Lindir. With the silver haired ellon no longer by your side you felt yourself growing nervous. Liquid courage was sounding better, but your glass was empty. As you followed Lindir through the party you grabbed a glass from the drinks table and down it, probably quicker than you should have. _“Two drinks won’t hurt me, surely,”_ you thought.

            You gave Celeborn a detailed outline of your speech, emphasising that it was going to be short and sweet. He smiled at you as a father would his daughter and placed his hand on your shoulder.

            “You will do well, Y/N. Do not be nervous. If you were not capable of this we would not have asked you.”

            “Thank you, My Lord.”

            “Now go, enjoy the evening. Lindir will come for you when it is time,” he waved you away. As you walked away you missed him mutter, “Lindir, makes sure she is sober for the speech. After that she drink can as much as she wants.”

           

            You tried to get another flute of the golden liquid Thranduil had given you, but Lindir appeared at your side. “My Lady, may I have this dance?”

            You had always been fond of Lindir, how could you say no? It had been centuries since you had danced. “I would love to, old friend.”

            Lindir swirled, twirled, spun, dipped, tangoed you across the dance floor for many songs. You had laughed the whole time, even during the slow song. It was difficult not to giggle when he kept whispering jokes in your ear. Finally, exhausted you begged for a break. “How can I give a speech when you have stolen all my energy?”

            “I would say forgive me, but I do not regret it,” he smiled. “Sit, I will bring you something to drink.”

            You sat and moments later Lindir returned with a golden drink. You sipped eagerly, but it tasted different. You shrugged it off, you were probably just getting used to the taste. You did not know that he had watered it down.

 

            When it was time for your speech you went up on stage and asked Lindir to "fetch Lord Elrond for me, please.” Lindir bowed and said “of course, My Lady,” before actually dragging the surprised elf onto the stage with you. You smiled at him. 

            “What is this?” He whispered to you.

            “A surprise. Now be quiet,” you whispered back.

            “Ladies and Gentlemen, we are here celebrating many braves elves and men, but I would like to take a moment to talk about Lord Elrond. Not only did he bravely raise two rambunctious twins and a daughter, but he survived war, though I am not sure which produced more battle scars,” the crowd laughed. You continued your speech, with a few other chuckles from the crowd. “If you would, raise your glass to Lord Elrond, friend, father, warrior,” you rose your glass and everyone said “Hail!” in unison, before drinking. Elrond hugged you and whispered in your ear, “I’ll get you for this.” You could hear the smile in his voice. He was honoured, but he hated getting attention this way.

            You left the stage, legs shaking with excitement and left over adrenaline. Lindir brought you another drink, and this time it tasted right. You drank it quickly, your mouth dry from the speech and, though you were past what should have been your max, got another drink.

            “Haldir, dance with me,” you cooed to the golden haired ellon leaning against a pillar.

            “I am not much for dancing, My Lady, though I’m sure Lord Thranduil would like to dance with you,” he tried to distract you.

            “And he will, but I want a dance with you, too.”

            “Only one dance?”

            “If that’s all I can get.”

            Haldir sighed. “Fine. One dance,” he held up a single finger.

            “Thank you,” you slurred, and let him escort you to the dance floor.

            Haldir held you carefully and danced with you. Unfortunately for him a slow song came on the second your feet hit the floor. You moved closer into his arms. He kept his face straight, trying not to show how uncomfortable he was. You had only asked him to dance with you four times in the nearly two thousand years that he’d known you. One dance every five hundred years wasn’t so bad, even if he did hate dancing.

            “You’re magnificent,” you said, not thinking.

            “You are a good dancer as well,” he smiled kindly at you.

            You shook your head. “I didn’t mean the dancing, though you are good at that as well. I meant in general. Strong, handsome, good dancer, probably a good kisser,” you listed, mind wonky with alcohol.

            “My Lady?” Haldir was confused. This did not sound the Y/N he knew at all.

            “Tell the truth, are you a good kisser?”

            Haldir blushed. He was not the type to kiss and tell, or tell what his partner(s) thought of his kisses.

           

            Off in the distance Celeborn and Thranduil were chatting when Thranduil caught sight of a red faced march warden with a lovely elleth.

            “What did Y/N say to make Haldir blush?” He asked Celeborn.

            “I do not know, but it takes a lot,” he chuckled, amused until a thought struck him. His face went straight. “Y/N would never say the things that it takes to make him blush. She is not that kind of elleth.”

            Thranduil’s eyes widened and locked with Celeborn’s. “She’s drunk.”

            “Oh Valar, save us,” Celeborn said quietly as Thranduil tried to make his way through the throng of dancers and observers.

           

            Lindir saw before the elf lords that you were in no condition to be around people who would remember what you said and tapped Haldir on the shoulder.

            “May I cut in?” He asked politely, sending a wink at Haldir that you missed. Haldir knew that Lindir knew you were not yourself and stepped aside with a nod.

            “Lindir! I was beginning to make progress,” you pouted.

            “Progress with what?” He asked as he stealthy danced you towards the edge of the dance floor.

            “Finding out if Haldir is a good kisser! Remember when we were betting who was and wasn’t? I still want to know!”

            “I know,” he sighed. Y/N was so innocent when she was drunk, but it always seemed like she had ulterior motives. Lindir glanced over your shoulder and saw Thranduil, who mouthed, “Bring her to me,” at the elf currently supporting most of your weight.

            “I think you’ve had a bit too much to drink,” Thranduil said softly as he put an arm under yours and directed you toward your chambers.

            “I haven’t had that much,” you protested. “And you’re stealing me from Lindir.”

            Thranduil sighed, “May I borrow her for a bit, Lindir?” Thanduil humored you.

            “Of course. My Lord,” he said. "Call if you need help,” he whispered as an after thought.

            “Thank you. See? I’m not stealing you; I’m borrowing you.”

            “You’re so funny, Thranduil.”

            “No, I’m not. How much have you had to drink?”

            “Just what you gave me. And the drink I picked up when I went to speak to Celeborn. And the one Lindir gave me. And the one I toasted with. And there might have been one or two more before I danced with Haldir.”

            “Six drinks? My dear, even I do not drink so much in such a short span of time. How did you make it up on stage?”

            “Liquid courage?” You shrugged. Thranduil opened your door and helped you inside. You sat on the bed while he got you some medicine and a glass of water.

            “To prevent a headache,” he explained, and you took the medicine, but refused the water. “Y/N, the water will help, I promise.”

            “Let me kiss you first.”

            “My Lady, I do not think that is a good idea.”

            “No, I don’t mean it like that, just as a thank you for helping me. I couldn’t have given my speech without you,” you whispered. You leaned over to kiss the elf, butterflies building in stomach, flying up your throat and, no, that wasn’t butterflies, you realised, eyes wide. You moved your head to the side just in time and puked on the floor. 

            You were mortified.

            “It’s okay, Y/N. Drink the water, and go to sleep.”

            “But I-“

            “Do not worry about it,” Thranduil reassured you and tucked you into bed. Once he was sure you were asleep he sent for someone to clean up the mess. While he waited he watched you sleep. Hesitantly he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

            “Sleep well, you silly drunk elleth,” he whispered before leaving you. When he arrived in his own chambers he began to disrobe for bed. He noticed something on his shoes. Upon closer inspection he realized it was your “butterflies.” He sighed and shook his head. “I’m never letting that girl drink again."

**Author's Note:**

> This was a request, and I'm not sure if it is what you had in mind; this just sort of happened. I don't own anything that you recognize. I appreciate every read, kudos, and comment - thank you! And I love taking requests!


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